


Old Friend

by Mat_Neptune



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Oneshot, References to fallout 3 even though I never played it, She's not really the FSS, Smut, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Sex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mat_Neptune/pseuds/Mat_Neptune
Summary: A 19 year old girl alone in the Commonwealth, crashing with a (not) stranger, telling drunken stories about her childhood.





	Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST ACTUAL SMUT I WORKED REALLY HARD ON THIS

Sawyer found herself in Goodneighbour quite often. She accepted any odd jobs from here or Bunker Hill, stealing stuff from her employers when she felt the pay wasn't good enough. She stole often, picked pockets right in the open, taking things from the brahmin's trunks while the other caravan guards weren't looking. If she really wanted to, she'd rob everyone in the Commonwealth and make herself look just as bad as she did in the Capital Wasteland. Except she hasn't been here long, and she's already found some good places to hide. When she was younger, she always slept with one eye open.

But Sawyer didn't need to think about that now. She was in a safe place, safer than most people thought. She was in the Third Rail, talking about work with Whitechapel Charlie, ordering several more beers. She still even had Bobrov Moonshine in her pack from Diamond City. She hated that place, but since the guards were such shit at their jobs, she had plenty opportune moments to steal.

"More. Money. Charlie." Sawyer stared him down in all three of his optics. She wasn't going to take the fucking job if he didn't pay her properly. He groaned, complying with her order. As he floated away, she heard him mutter about how frightening she is. She shook her head, gulping the whiskey she'd just bought. She hates whiskey. A woman sitting next her watched her drink the whole bottle in one go, and paid Sawyer 100 caps to do it again. She chose Bobrov this time. This stuff tasted like flowers sometimes, depends on what she had before it. It tasted like ash. She gulped it quickly, eyeing the woman. Before she got paid, she inhaled a canister of jet. The woman was so amused she paid an extra 50 caps and a kiss on the cheek.

When no one was looking, with most of the late night residents passed out, Sawyer swiped some of Charlie's good stuff, drinking so much she drooled. She hadn't drooled since she was a child. 

_Her childhood._

"Ey," Charlie half yelled at her. She looked up, flipping him off. "Oh pissoff." He grumbled. "I'm turning on the radio, cause trouble, I slice you up and kick you out."

She turned to the stage, only now noticing that Magnolia wasn't singing and most of the lights were off. She turned to face the stairs, seeing Ham helping residents up. She could go to Hotel Rexford and get a room there, but judging by the time, Marowski should be looking for a girl to help him sleep, and she wasn't going to do that again. A fucking mistake, that was. If someone paid her to kill Marowski, she'd take it in a heartbeat. 

"Ehh, whatever Charlie. You know I'm you best customer."

"Yeah yeah, just get the fuck away from my booth."

She nodded drunkenly, shifting her weight, swiping some more bottles. She took a swig, wobbling to the backroom slowly. She never really cared that this was here, apparently Hancock set this up for a friend. She entered, a guy laying on the couch, reading some comics, looked up at her. "Are... you here for a gun?"

"Hm?" She shifted her weight, looking at him. The lights kinda hurt her eyes. 

"I'm a hired gun, 250 caps up front. If you're not hiring, then leave."

"Gahhhh." She sad down by the wall opposite of the couch. "I'll pay you 25 caps if you'd let me sleep here tonight."

"Uhhhh, no." He sat up, looking at her. "Who even are you?"

"I'm..." She raised her hands up. "Me." She heard him sigh. Sawyer put on sunglasses, the reddish pink lights pissed her off so much. "So... one time I drank a bottle of beer when I was 8."

"Uh-huh." The guy sighed, laying down, back to his comics. 

"And I stripped down and peed in a hole in front of my friends."

The guy curled his nose. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The mayor was so mad with me that he forced me to take a bath, and I hated baths." She opened her eyes slightly, seeing his figure on the couch. He didn't say anything, just shook his head and went back to reading. He probably got grossed out. That made Sawyer smile. "Okay, more interesting story." She shifted, pulling up her left arm. "See this? 's called a Pip-Boy."

"I lived near a vault, I know what those are."

"Great! So... My parents were shit. I was supposed to clean our living space in the vault where I was born. If I missed a spot, I'd be slapped across the face and not get any dinner. And I had to cook for my parents because they were too pissed off. My dad was pissed off at my mom for sleeping with every other adult male in the vault, and my mom was mad at my dad for having a problem with his dick and couldn't fuck her. I even heard her scream at him and threatening to chop his dick off if he didn't make an effort to fuck her, and-"

"Ah, no. Stop. That's enough." The guy was obviously disgusted. Perhaps this wasn't a good story.

"Ever heard of the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Yes, and those guys are fuc-- ermm, hecking crazy." He looks to Sawyer. She's slouching over. "Hey are you alright?" No response. The guy moves her over to one of couches, dimming the lights and taking those shades off. "Hey," He calls out again. He takes purified water and pours some on her face. 

He gets punched.

Sawyer sits up, grabbing the knife from her boot. " ** _Excuse you_** _?!"_

"Hey, you passed out on me!" 

"SHUT THE FUCK UP IN THERE!" Charlie yells. 

They sit in silence for a moment, awkwardly. "Still drunk?"

Sawyer pulls out a flask and takes a sip. "Yep."

"You were telling me about... god, weird shit from your past."

"So you were listening!"

"How could I not? It's dead quiet in here." He sits back up on the couch by the wall. "So why'd you bring up the BOS?"

"Umm.." She thinks for a moment. "Ah, right! I used to steal shit from them. There was this guy named Maxon, who was 3 years older than me, guess he still is if he's alive. He was a goody-two-shoes and always friendly with the soldiers. I found some ways past the guards, since I was so little, it was easy. Onetime, however, Maxon caught me stealing some of his toys and what does he do? A kid who was 12 at the time?"

The guy shrugs. "What, pull a pistol on you?"

" _No_. The fucker screams. He screams like a fucking baby and starts crying. I kicked him in the leg and ran as fast as I could, and I couldn't ever return. Those guys had some seriously good shit."

"So why were you stealing toys? Seems you were, even at the age of eight, didn't need toys."

"I got them for my friends, mostly." She sits up slowly, drinking the water he left her. "We lived together and protected each other, we had jobs, we shared things, just a bunch of kids."

"Wait, you... You're talking about Little Lamplight, right?!"

"Yup!"

The guy jumps on the couch next to her, holding her shoulders. "You're from Little Lamplight!" He has the happiest grin, yet Sawyer cannot understand why, unless he's from there too? "I think I remember you..."

She shrugs. "I'm Sawyer, and... who are you? Maybe we really did live there at the same time."

"I'm MacCready."

Her eyes go wide. "No way! You're RJ MacCready!" She hugs him. "Ah, you were the mayor! I remember you~" He hugs her back, slowly for him. They stay huddled together for a moment, Sawyer's head seems to be clearing up. "It's crazy, never thought I'd find you here, doing merc work. And look at me, I'm doing odd jobs and still steal shit." 

"Hmmm, Mac purrs, holding her tight. "I can't believe you call me RJ even after I told everyone I prefer MacCready."

"Oh hush, I like your name." She pushes him down, sitting on his lap. His face goes red, a smirk sneaks across her face. "What~?"

"Don't play dumb with me," He scoffs. "Old reunited friends and the first thing you want to do is fuck?"

" _No_ , the first thing I want to do is relax with you, and well, I guess sex would help?" Sawyer gives a nice wink. Mac sits up, kissing her jaw softly, she giggles. "Wow, you have facial hair..." She rubs a thumb across his chin, studying his face. She liked him back then, but in a different way. She wanted him to be her big brother. Now she just wants him to fuck her dirty. 

"Sawyer." He unbuttons her shirt slowly, taking off her vest. She looks like a true drifter in these clothes. He kisses her collarbone, pulling her clothes down. She moans softly, running her fingers through his light brown hair. His big hands hold her waist, sucking softly on her rosy skin. She kisses him wholly, pulling at his hair to keep their lips close.

MacCready fumbles with his hair when she releases her grip. "I think you were blonde when we were little." Sawyer mentions.

"Your hair was redder, now it's just brown." He slips off his own clothes, still keeping his pants on. She wants to tease him though, slipping out of her jeans, straddling his hips.

"I like your boxers." He feels the fabric. "Are they comfy?"

"Yes." She pushes him down, grinding on him. Mac rubs her thighs slowly, watching Sawyer's expression soften. She can't take her eyes off of him.

"What will get you out of these?" He tugs at the hem of her boxers.

"You getting out of yours~" She purrs, grinding harder. His belt buckle hurts her inner thighs slightly, and its just another obstacle to his dick. Mac wriggles himself out of them, now fully naked under her; his face is redder than hers. She grinds slower, moving in circles. "Damn... you got me fucked up." Sawyer leans over him to slip out of her boxers. Mac undoes her bra. 

Both are now naked, relaxing close to each other. MacCready sits up by the arm of the couch, holding Sawyer close. "You're too pretty." He murmurs, biting her neck softly.

"No such thing," She rubs her fingers on the back of his neck. He's so stressed, but who isn't in a world like this? A small chuckle escapes her as she feels his boner. **_So. Mature._ ** "You gonna fuck me already, or leave me hot and bothered?"

Mac slams her down on he couch, pulling her hips close, thrusting slowly inside. Sawyer covers her face, he's bigger than she thought he'd be. "Let me see you." Mac purrs, picking up the pace. She really wants it, and he delivers. He lifts her hips up, slamming hard inside her cunt. MacCready fucks her like this is his last day alive, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder for leverage. He keeps up the pace, no chance of quitting, and Sawyer's face is red. Really red and wet. She's crying. Mac rubs her back nicely in contrast to his rough pace, helping her ease her orgasm. She didn't even notice. 

 

 

After what felt like forever, which was just probably two hours, MacCready and Sawyer rest together, covered with a Yao Guai pelt; stolen, of course. Sawyer rests on top of him while he runs his fingers through her soft hair. How in the world did she keep it so soft? "My legs hurt." Sawyer snuggles Mac.

"Sorry not sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She smiles, tapping his shoulder softly. "It was 250 caps to hire you, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll give you the money when I wake up." She shifts. "I can't stand not being with you. What if some junkie hires you, only to use you as a meatbag and lets you get killed?"

"That's not going to happen, but..." RJ kisses her softly, rubbing her lower back. "I'll happily watch your back." Sawyer plays a holotape she found to some soft music, good music for thinking and sleeping.

"Love you." She says, just below a whisper.


End file.
